Smoking Shotguns
by Lorze The Brookes
Summary: The old story - Lara gets Scion, Larson tries to intervene, Lara kicks his ass - but with a different twist. If you're watching for my other stuff, bear with me, I need to get this out of my system. Enjoy, and please review.


**A/N:** Just a small break from "Warrior of Art" - the story's still going strong, don't worry. I got this idea from watching a video on Lara's many Anniversary "scripted" deaths. I've never actually played Anniversary, but I have played on Tomb Raiders 1-5, so I reckon I can pull this off - with some research...

I'll apologize now for any plain crapness - what goes on next is down to my muse, and _god_ knows where that's been...

**Disclaimer: **I do not, repeat, do **not** own Tomb Raider, Eidos, Lara Croft, Larson Conway, or anybody else mentioned here. Unless it's a random character squeezed in for the funnies.

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She had braved countless wolves, innumerable bats, the occasional bear, and even everything the Lost Valley could throw at her. The dart traps had been avoided with almost embarrassing ease, the spike pits had held no fear for her, and she hadn't even batted an eyelid at the boulders. But she was finally where she needed to be.

Now, all Lara had to do was take the first piece of the Scion from the small plinth in the center of the room.

She glanced around again to check for any hidden traps that may activate when the artifact was removed, paying close attention to the only mummy-guard that had remained completely still, but the room was deathly still, save for her own breath. It was quite clear that the air had last been disturbed several centuries ago, but this was nothing out of the ordinary for the intrepid Tomb Raider.

She carefully reached for the Scion, still very much alert for any sign of danger, but then quickly scooped it up. As she was beginning to suspect would happen, the roof suddenly gave an ominous creak, and particles of dust fluttered down through the air. Lara didn't dare move, in case she caused the ceiling to fall in on her faster, but she was soon forced to as larger and larger pieces of stonework began to fall - the largest, it seemed, from directly above her head.

She turned and ran, not even bothering to place the piece of Scion safely in her backpack. Jumping over obstacles caused by falling debris, and skirting around the more problematic areas, she soon found herself back at the waterfall pool just before the part of the Lost Valley with the greenery. Not even pausing for breath, she dived in, just as the last of the ceiling gave way, sealing off the tomb forever.

However, she soon discovered that she was not alone. Through the crystalline waters above her head, she could see the figure of Larson Conway waiting for her to surface. The piece of the Scion, clenched tightly in her hand, was still exuding a strange light, but Lara ignored it, knowing that Larson was going to demand all of her attention.

Her head broke the surface of the water into the cool, damp air of the cavern, and she swam to the edge of the pool.

"I'd love to join you, but I've forgotten my trunks," drawled Larson, his American accent as thick as ever.

"Why am I not surprised?" Lara commented dryly as she clambered out of the pool.

"You got your job, I got mine." Larson said, before holding out a hand. "I'll take it from here."

"I hope Natla sent you here with more than that shotgun." Lara said, making no move to hand over the artifact.

"Don't sweat it, Kitten. I prefer a more _hands-on _approach..."

Larson suddenly began to swing at Lara, solid punches that would have stung if one had connected. Lara, in turn, began to back away, ducking under his overconfident strikes. She was crouched and ready when Larson suddenly sprang at her, but her usual lightning quick reflexes deserted her temporarily, and before she could move, Larson bore her to the ground.

She landed on her back, with Larson straddling her torso. She clenched her eyes against the sudden pain as Larson spoke.

"I'm beginning to think you're not interested."

Her eyes sprang open and narrowed at the smirking American, before she quickly struck with a hand that hadn't quite been pinned to her side. Larson made a strange noise in his throat, but rolled off her, momentarily concerned with his own more "private" problem that Lara had created. Lara scrabbled to her feet, and turned to face the pained man, who somehow recovered within seconds.

She sprang forward with a few well aimed punches of her own, which Larson blocked with apparent ease. As she backed off slightly for another onslaught, Larson quickly stooped, grabbing a handful of grit from the ground. Lara saw his intention, and quickly slid underneath the cloud of dusty particles that Larson had caused, kicking his raised fist with her free foot. Larson stumbled, but Lara was up and ready before he could recover. A solid punch to the face was all the persuasion Larson needed to go down flat on his back.

But it wasn't over yet. Lara backed off again, recognizing the murderous intent in his eyes as he recovered, scrambling to his feet and drawing his shotgun. She tensed, and launched at the blond, knocking the butt of his gun to the side just as a shot rang out, and using the free hand to punch him in the face again.

Larson finally took the hint, falling to the ground and staying down. It was Lara's turn to straddle him, but she took no chances, pushing her weight into his shoulders and effectively pinning him to the ground.

"This is only one piece of the Scion. Where's the rest of it?" Lara demanded, holding the artifact in front of his face before placing it securely in her backpack.

"Give me a minute," Larson said, eying the brunette. "I'm thinking." He tried to get up, but the combination of Lara's weight on his arms and the pistol she placed at his temple made him abandon the attempt. "Woa-ho! Makes no difference to me. Pierre's probably already found his piece."

"Pierre DuPont?" Lara said, startled at the mention of her long-time rival. "Where?"

She leaned over, her gun hand steady, as Larson replied.

"Now _that_ I _don't know."_

Lara narrowed her eyes, forcing Larson to hold her gaze, but apparently believed him. She removed the gun from his temple, and straightened up.

"...Alright. I'm convinced."

She stood up, and looked towards the exit. Larson watched her walk a few steps before rolling over to reach for the discarded shotgun.

"Damn," he said, lying on his front next to his weapon. "You really had me going there."

Lara stopped walking. Larson picked up his shotgun, and cocked it. Lara simply span around in a roundhouse kick to the head that knocked him both off his feet, and unconscious. As the man thudded to the ground, Lara picked up his shotgun. It was rather worn, but fully serviceable. Well, the man had been part of the United States Marine Special Ops. He should know to keep both his weapons and himself in the best condition.

She had no need for the weapon, having her own strapped to her back, so she turned and tossed it into the pool of water she had just emerged out of. She spared Larson one last glance, before turning toward the exit again, and making her way back to civilization.

--

A couple of hours later, Larson awoke with a groan, before slowly sitting up. Damn, that woman could kick like a horse! He gingerly felt his temple, which seemed to be where the most pain was coming from, and wasn't surprised to find a rather large and tender bump.

Shaking his head, he pulled himself to his feet. Once the stars had cleared from his vision, he patted his pockets absentmindedly, before a thought struck him. He reached to where his trusty shotgun should have been, and grasped at the thin air. He looked around him, expecting to see it lying on the floor, but it was nowhere in sight.

"Son of a-"

He turned frantically, and an unexpected glint from the water where, less than two hours earlier, Lara had emerged, caught his eye. Walking toward the edge of the water, he confirmed his suspicions. Damn it, not only did he let the Croft woman slip past him, but she'd tossed his shotgun into the water!

He growled. He was stiff from the beating earlier, and Natla was _not_ gonna be happy with him, but now he had to get his clothes wet? Damn that woman! He'd see that she got what was coming to her. But before that...

--

Lara, who had just reached the huge stone gates that lead to the civilized world - or, at least, Peru - glanced over her shoulder. It was either her imagination, or a rather loud splash had just reverberated up from the depths of the cave. She turned back to the problem in hand. Larson could take care of himself.

She inspected the stone of the door, in the hope that there might be a lever or something to open it with. She had been doing this for the last half an hour, so needless to say, she wasn't very happy with the result - especially if Larson caught up with her. She had a feeling that it would be best to avoid the blond American for a while - at least, until he had calmed down.

Giving up momentarily, she turned from the door to see if there was anything to help her. As she turned, though, her bag gave an unexpected jolt, and the first piece of the Scion fell out. Lara turned, eyebrow raised as she wondered how it had fallen - she had been sure it was securely in her bag - but raised the other one in astonishment as the huge stone doors ponderously grated open.

She's never been so glad to see a blizzard. Scooping up the Scion, and this time making sure there was no way it could fall out again, she walked outside and over to the body of her guide. What to do? It was hardly practical to drag his corpse back to the nearest village, but she could hardly leave him there...

She bit her lip. There was only one thing for it... bury the poor man.

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**A/N: **I know this is pitifully short, but I'm going to make it a few chapters long - around 5, if all goes to plan. Which it probably won't. Anyway, tell me what you thought of it - and I promise that something will happen next chapter. Including, perhaps, the reason this story came to be in the first place...


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